I Want To Be Yours
by qbertsgoingtoeatyou
Summary: Hermione is a cutter, and Draco catches her in the act. Will he be able to save her?
1. Chapter 1

**AN: I wrote this story with my friends HyperInSugar and ShamrockAndRoll, though I wrote the majority of it and came up with the idea.**

Hermione is walking to class and runs into Draco, hitting her arm on the wall.

"Oh, no!" she exclaims, hurriedly covering her arm and running on.

"Mudblood," he mutters under his breath at the sight of Granger.

Hermione frowns, her eyes welling up.

"I can hear him! Dirty blood, that's you," she whispers to herself, ducking into an empty classroom. Hermione hurriedly removes a blade from her bag and slices at her arm.

"Where has she gone?" he asks himself. In the past few months, he has noticed that she has been trying to hide something. But what it could be?

The lack of answers is actually infuriating, as he wanders through the crowded corridor.

From outside, Hermione hears a noise like someone stepping just outside the classroom. She drops the blade, spattering blood and creating a huge ruckus. Hermione tries to pull down her sleeve, but it is caught on something, leaving her cuts and scars exposed to whomever might be outside.

He is slightly startled by the sound of a door closing nearby, and he decides to head towards that classroom. Curiosity may have killed the cat, but nevertheless, it is still amusing to discover the whereabouts of certain students.

Hermione heaves as she tried to pull her sleeve out. She can hear someone's footsteps outside, she can hear the knob turning, and she can see blood running down her wrist and onto the floor.

He blinks in shock as he steps inside the classroom and comes face to face with Hermione Granger.

There is something wrong with the muggle, as he notices his eyes are red and slightly puffy. He realizes in shock that beneath her feet are blood droplets and the sleeves in her shirt are bloody.

"What have you done?" he wonders aloud.

"Silly me!" Hermione exclaims, sneakily picking up the fallen razorblade. "I caught my arm on the side of this desk and hit it, it hurt quite badly!"

Hermione bites her lip and stood up, trying to figure out what to do next. If she rushed out, Draco might suspect something, but if she stayed here he could ask questions.

"What was that about?" he asks himself rhetorically. For once, he is actually concerned about Granger's well-being.

"You are coming with me to the infirmary," he snarls, grabbing her wrists carefully and pulling her out of that classroom.

"Draco!" she exclaims. "Did I just call him DRACO?" she asks herself, but realizes she has more important things at hand. "I told you, I caught my arm. Get off of me, I've got to go to lessons!"

Hermione pulls away from him, wincing at the pain, and starts towards the door.

"Wait!" he exclaims, still in shock with his sudden burst. He shouldn't be this concerned over Potter's friend, yet a part of him is worried about her.

Hermione casts him a dirty look. "What now? I need to go to class!" She pulls at her bloody sleeve, gripping her arm tightly and shifting her weight constantly.

He grabs her by her upper arm and keeps on dragging her to the infirmary. He'll drop her off there and pretend the whole thing never happened.

"DRACO!" she screams, trying to pull away. "GET OFF OF ME!"

Hermione slaps him and starts to run, cradling her arm and crying as she slams the door on the girl's bathroom.

He is flabbergasted, standing there with her blood smeared on his hand.

"Stupid Mudblood," he mutters, "What's she doing?"

Hermione sobs as she slides down the door and reveals her bloodied arm. "I used to be pretty," she says to herself. "Not anymore." She scratches at her arm, opening up another cut and creating another rapid flow of blood. "Oh no!"

He can here her sobbing from outside, but what does it matter? He needs to go get this girl's blood off his hand anyway. He walks in the direction of the boys' bathroom.

Hermione is startled by the sound of footsteps just outside. She gasps as she realizes that she's late for Arithmancy. "I'm going to miss class!" Hermione says, sobbing again. "I've never missed a class before!"

Slowly standing up, Hermione cautiously opens the door. "I hope no one saw me," she thinks aloud, walking down the hall where she can hear fervent splashing. "What is going on?"

Draco rinses off his hand and turns off the tap. He dries his hand and steps outside, coming face-to-face with Hermione again. He notices that her eyes are very red and puffy now.

"Oh my god! Draco!" she exclaims, trying to rush away. He catches her arm.

Why is he doing this, he shouldn't care, if his father ever found out- but that doesn't matter right now. Without saying a word he drags her all the way to the hospital wing, ignoring her protests along the way.

"Draco! Please, Draco, I'll do anything, please, please don't make me go to the hospital wing, I'm fine, I've already told you what happened, it's not even deep, I caught my arm!"

He stops outside the door to the hospital wing and turns furiously to face her. "It doesn't matter what you did, the point is you need to get in there and get it looked at!" He shoves her in the door.

Madam Pomfrey looks expectantly at her. "Yes, Hermione?" she asks.

"Oh, I just wanted to see how Harry was doing, you know how he was injured in the last match!" Hermione exclaims.

Draco shakes his head, impatient, he can hear what she's saying through the door. He bursts in and says, "She cut her arm or something, look." He pulls up her sleeve.

Hermione pulls her sleeve back down quickly and nudges Draco. "Get off of me!" Draco's face is white as Hermione tries to rush out. Madam Pomfrey is paying very little attention to either as she looks at Harry's broken arm.

"I'm afraid you'll have to wait a little bit to see him, dear, he's sleeping right now," Madam Pomfrey says, turning around, but only Draco is there, staring blankly at the space where Hermione was.


	2. Chapter 2

Rushing through the hallway, Hermione sobs before tripping and falling to the ground a slight ways' away from the hospital wing. "You can never let anyone know. Draco can't know. No one can know, do you want to be found out? Do you want them to take this away from you? Why are you so careless?"

Draco stalks through the hallway, away from the hospital wing, fuming. He doesn't know why he's so mad, but he is. He wishes that girl would just own up to her mistakes sometimes.

Hermione presses a hand into her face, angrily scratching at her right leg. "Stupid, careless, annoying…" she keeps up a steady chant of self-hatred as she scratches her very pale calf.

Draco rounds a corner, not even caring where he's going or what class he's supposed to be at, when suddenly in front of him is Granger again. He stands there, mystified, as he witnesses her furiously scratching at her leg.

Hermione looks up, alarmed. "Damn fabric softener, I must have an allergic reaction. Quite common, you know, my mum can't use it at all!"

"Spare me that Mudblood talk, Granger," he snaps at her. Really, he's just embarrassed that he doesn't have the slightest clue what 'fabric softener' is, but he can't let her know that.

"Why are you following me everywhere? We're both very late for class!" exclaims Hermione, attempting to get to her feet and tripping again. Involuntarily, Draco reaches out and grabs her hand.

"I'm not following you!" he yells at her. "Why'd you run away from the hospital wing if you didn't want to be followed? What's wrong with you, Granger?"

"IT DOESN'T WORK THAT WAY!" shouts Hermione. "I JUST WANT TO GET AWAY FROM YOU! AND EVERYONE!" she screams, bursting into tears and sinking to the ground again.

His jaw drops as he stands in front of her, unsure of what to do. He decides to try a different tack, however difficult it may be. "Hey... I'm sorry. I meant... what's wrong?"

"Oh go away!" she says loudly, "You don't care anyways! I'm sure you'll just go back to your common room and tell everyone about how CRAZY I am or something! Fine! Go! I don't even care."

"Look, I tried to be nice to you!" He exclaims angrily. "Have you ever seen me be nice to another student, all these years?" He knows that she and Potter and the weasel have thought he was the world's biggest ass ever since they met, maybe using this tactic will get her to tell him what happened. Maybe in a different time he would've laughed about how insane she was, but now he knows he won't.

"No, which is why I don't believe you! Do you just want to know all my secrets? Do you want to find out what's 'wrong' with me? There's nothing wrong!" she says, sobbing again, which quite obviously reveals that there is something wrong.

"Ugh. You're impossible!" he shouts, throwing his hands up and walking away. Then he stops and turns around. "I never said I wanted to know your 'secrets'. I just asked what was wrong. Honestly. And even if you had told me, I wouldn't have told a single soul as long as I lived," he says bitterly.

Hermione sobs again. "Fine, you want to know what's wrong? Come here, come and see what's wrong."

He walks back toward her, palms up, showing her that he's not going to hex her or anything. He is actually quite interested now, in addition to the admittedly irrational concern he felt originally.

Hermione looks into his eyes as she rolls back her sleeves. Flipping her forearms up, she reveals a tangled mass of deep cuts, scabbed wounds and white scars that covered her entire forearm. "This." she says, more tears rolling down her face. "This is what's wrong."

At first, Draco is utterly distracted by how her eyes seem to burn into his, a fact he had never noticed before, but he forces himself to look down at what she is showing him. He stands in shock for a few moments and finally says, "And you didn't want to go to the hospital wing?"

"How could I? How could I let other people know? I've never told anyone, never, not my parents, not Ron, not even Harry. I'm scared, I'm scared of what's happening and I'm scared of what I'm going to do, but I don't want to stop, I want to cut deeper and deeper, I want to die some days." Hermione bites her lip, memorizing Draco's face at this moment. It felt like he was the first person who'd ever cared enough to find out.

Draco abandons all pretenses and sits down cross-legged next to her. "You should tell them," he says, "They have a right to know about their friend, or their daughter, or whatever." He swallows with difficulty and continues, "Why do you even feel this way? You're the brightest witch in the entire school. You never look like you have anything wrong with you."

"NO!" she exclaims. "I can't tell them! No." Hermione scratches roughly at the back of her hand. This conversation was the most helpful thing to her, and it was still stressing her out far too much. "I, I don't know, there's just… there's so much pressure." she adds. She wishes that she could be held, or hugged, or something, but it was odd enough that Draco was talking to her that it was unlikely she'd be embraced. She continues to scratch at her arm, not knowing if she wanted him to notice or not.

"Well... you know... there's a lot of pressure in my family too," he admits to her. He wants to put his arm around her or something, but he knows that she will just shrug him off. "I always have to be perfect for my parents and if I do one little thing wrong, I get the whole 'purebloods are supposed to be perfect' treatment..."

"But, but… that's terrible!" she exclaims, staring at her ruined wrist. One of these days, her hand was going to fall off or something. "How could they?" Hermione buries her face in her hands.

"My father thinks it's normal. It was the way he was raised," he says. "I'm sure one of these days he's just going to hex me off the face of the earth or something."

"I'm the one who puts the pressure on myself. If I'm not the best student, if I'm not… perfect, I just can't handle it. I can't handle anything!" she says, knocking the back of her head against the wall. Hermione had never hurt herself in FRONT of someone before… what was she trying to do? "This is a secret!" she thought to herself.

"That's what my father WISHES I was like," he retorts bitterly. "He cares more about me getting a respectable job than me actually being happy. Not that I could ever be happy while he's breathing down my neck, but of course he never thinks of that." He doesn't even know why he's confiding in her, but somehow it's nice to finally tell someone.

"H-how do you cope with it? You don't cut, I know that, and you eat fine, what's the alternative?" asks Hermione. The conversation was stressing her out too much again. Hermione grabs her bag and starts to search through it for the salvation that she desperately needs.

Should he really tell her? "Well... it's part of the reason I'm always so rude." That's part of it, but not all. "And... and I cry more often than people think," he says quietly. "I put a Silencing Charm on myself so my roommates don't hear."

Hermione finds what she is looking for- a small bag. "It would be lovely to cry, but I can never cry enough to get everything out, it barely even takes the edge off."

"Well... yes, sometimes that's a problem too," he says. "Other than that, I... I really don't know."

"It's funny to think t-that people use normal methods of coping, instead of what I do, instead of… that." she says, unzipping the bag. It was filled with bloody razorblades, a small pocket mirror (carefully shattered) and a few plasters. Hermione removed one of the blades and held it, trying to get Draco to notice, trying to get him to not let her. She didn't know why she wanted him to stop her, it wouldn't make much of a difference, but it felt like something she needed.

"There are no 'normal' coping methods," he says. "My own methods, if you can call them that, they don't seem normal to me. At all. Maybe this is more normal than what I do." He grabs the blade from her hand. "But that still doesn't mean that you get to do it."

"But at least you aren't destroying yourself. I can't ever be pretty now, not now, not ever." Hermione lets go of another sob, trying to grab her blade back. "Please, just… let me cut."

"No." He throws the blade down the hall and hears it clatter against the floor. "And you ARE pretty."

"Why not? I have my nails!" she exclaims, taking hold of her left arm and raking down it with her nails. "I'm not pretty. Look at these scars and say that they're beautiful. Look at my cut throat when I'm dead and say that was the best way. Look at my bushy hair and say it's pretty. I'm ugly, I'm not even worthy of living."

He grabs her hand and pulls it away from her arm. He knows he's being irrational now, but he can't help it. He gestures to her arms. "Hermione, look. Your scars are beautiful. They represent everything you've been through. They represent a part of you. And I LIKE your hair. It's soft." He leans in and kisses her roughly.

Hermione is surprised by his action and pulls away, unwilling to let him touch her even though she craved it worse than anything else. "They're awful. I'M awful."

"Did you even hear what I just said?" He is disappointed that she reacted this way, he was hoping that she would kiss him back, although he knows why she didn't. "You don't need this. No one needs this. You don't have to be perfect all the time.

"Yes I do!" she exclaims, more tears running down her face. "All you see is the good, you don't see how awful I really am, you don't see how afraid I am to let you touch me even though all I want is a hug, you don't see how I freak if I don't get the highest score, you don't see what happens if I lose a point."

"Well, maybe I only see the good because there IS only good, Hermione!" He exclaims. Why can't she see this? "These things take time, and if you can do these things to yourself, then there's time to UN-do them! And since you wanted a hug-" He pulls her in close into a bear hug.

Hermione sobs into his shoulder, wrapping her arms around him. She whispers, just loud enough for him to hear her, "I'm afraid to undo them."

"You don't have to be afraid," he whispers back, "We can do this together."

"No!" she exclaims, standing up. "No, no, no, no, this is all wrong! No!" She rushes towards her blade, making a deep cut in her left arm. Tears run down her face as she stares at Draco, swiping the blade past again and again as her arm is covering with blood. "I'm by myself! Everyone betrays me. You'll betray me, I know it, I have to stay by myself." she says bitterly, unsure if she believes her own words.

Draco pulls out his wand, blasting the blade from her hand. It lands next to her and he swipes it up, placing it in his back pocket. His wand clatters to the floor. "Don't you think, if I wanted to betray you, I would've done it by now?"

"Draco! Give me my blade! I need it! It's not as though I don't have loads more!" she says loudly, "I don't know if you'd betray me, I don't know, I don't KNOW!" Hermione watches the blood leak out of her arm, wanting it to be everything, wanting to die, wanting to faint even.

He grabs her bag with the blades in it and throws it aside. He sits down again next to her and says, "If you don't know, then can I tell you how it's going to happen?"

"Fine, how's it going to happen?" snaps Hermione.

"What's going to happen is, right now you and I are going to the hospital wing. After that, you are going to tell Madam Pomfrey everything. Everything, Hermione. And Potter and Weasley, they should know too. You can keep it from your parents if you want, I don't know. But you are going to tell them. And you're going to get help. And I'm going to be there with you every step of the way." He sighs. "I know you're scared. I'm scared too. I'm scared for you. But we can make this work. I know we can."

Hermione gasps, shaking her head. "No, I can't tell them, I can't tell anyone. I can't believe I told you!" she exclaims, pulling down her sleeves and grabbing her bag. She runs towards Gryffindor Tower, arriving breathlessly with a gasped password of "Ursa Minor". Once inside the empty common room, she walks quickly into the girls' dormitories, trying to forget about what had happened.

She's crazy if she thinks she's going to get away so easily from him. Does she think he'll just forget about everything and act like he hates her again tomorrow? He doesn't hate her. He's always liked her, from the very first moment, but he's been lying to himself all this time. Maybe that's another way he copes. He lies. But he's not anymore, and his father can go fuck himself.


	3. Chapter 3

Hermione refused to leave the common room the next day, blaming it on some very bad cramps. Harry and Ron were disgusted enough that they didn't press the issue. Rather than stay in bed while everyone is at class, Hermione goes over their conversation a hundred times. How was she supposed to go to class if Draco might see her and take her to the hospital wing? The only way she could even think of it was by cutting, restarting the vicious cycle that had gotten her here in the first place.

Draco drifted through his classes the next day, not paying attention to a word any of his teachers said, always looking for her, in the double classes and in the hallways, but he didn't see her. He hoped that she'd gone to the hospital wing all by herself, but he didn't think so. It didn't matter, he'd keep looking until she showed up, or until she thought he'd forgotten, and then he'd get her.

Hermione realized soon that she had to eat and that she could probably sneak off to dinner with everyone else and be undetected. She slowly leaves the Common Room, near the end of the last class, and starts to wander to the Great Hall the longest way she can think of. Suddenly, she was there and she joins the rest of the Gryffindors. "Oh, hello!" she exclaims, waving at Ginny. "Sorry, I was a bit sick earlier but I'm much better now. Just really hungry." Ginny smiles at her as Hermione begins on her food.

He sits down at the Slytherin table and begins to nibble on an apple, ignoring Pansy Parkinson's obvious attempts at flirting with him, craning his neck to see across the Great Hall. Damn, why does the Gryffindor table have to be so far away? He thinks. Suddenly, he spots her, sitting down next to the Weasley girl, laughing and chatting like there was nothing wrong in the world. He hoped that she could feel his eyes burning into the back of her head from all the way over here.

Hermione continues eating, but she was too nervous. Was Draco here? If she turned around he'd definitely see her. What if he came over? What if (she gasped aloud) he'd TOLD?

He continues staring at her, putting his apple core back on his plate. He looks at it for a few seconds and considers throwing it, but there was too great of a chance that he could miss, and besides, it wouldn't be a very good way to get her attention. He goes back to stalking her...

Hermione got more and more nervous as the meal went on before she finally threw down her napkin and got up, rushing out of the hall. Of course, she hadn't figured on Draco following her.

He stormed out the doors of the Great Hall, catching up to her and pulling her around by her shoulder. "There you are."

Hermione felt sick to her stomach as he grabbed her, trying to figure out what to do. "Draco, please, please, please. I thought you weren't going to push me, please. Please." she pleaded.

"Hermione..." He can't be angry with her, not when he's this close to her. "If you don't tell Madam Pomfrey... then I guess I will."

"No, Draco, please, no, why? Why would you tell her? This would KILL Harry and Ron. You know it would, why would you do this to me, I… I thought you loved me." Hermione said this without thinking, but she instantly knew it was the truth.

"I DO love you, Hermione," he says in a rush. He is shocked that she said it, and equally shocked that he confirmed it. "And that's why I HAVE to make sure you get better. I HAVE to tell someone, if you won't. I can't lose you. I'm not going to."

This was, apparently, the wrong thing to say. "THERE ISN'T ANYTHING WRONG WITH ME!" she shouts, "I DON'T NEED TO GET BETTER, I'M FINE, I'm FINE." Hermione is hit with an overwhelming need to cut- more than that, she wants to die. "You're already losing me, I don't even know if I was ever yours. But I want to be," says Hermione, trying to find a blade in her overflowing bag.

"YOU SAID YESTERDAY THERE WAS SOMETHING WRONG!" He shouts it at her, he knows that look in her eyes and he can't let her. "You CAN be mine, I WANT you to be mine, and I want to be yours!" He is ashamed to feel tears in his eyes.

"I-I want to be. But it has to be too much, too hard for you to deal with me. I can hardly deal with myself, I can't just bring that on someone else. I love you too much to do that to you." she says, hugging him and leaving tears on his shoulder.

"You aren't doing anything to me," he says. "I've waited so long to hear you say that, do you think anything else could be more difficult than that?"

"I'm doing everything, all I do is hurt people, and can't you see that if you told it would hurt me? You told me just yesterday that you would never tell. I can't handle any more broken promises, from anyone."

He is startled, remembering that he did say that to her, not knowing if he should regret it or not. "Fine, but if I don't tell, then you have to tell. It's all for you, Hermione."

"No, I refuse to tell, don't you know how hard it was for me to tell you? This isn't just about cutting, this is about how my entire world is falling apart and how it will not even exist if I tell anyone else. If you can't understand that then I can't be with you, no matter how much I love you."

"Help me understand, Hermione," he says desperately. "If you want, it'll just be between us, but it's never NOT going to be between us, not now. I don't want you to hurt. I don't want you to be this way and I can tell you do too. So we can keep this between us, but you have to promise me that you'll do everything you can to get better.

Hermione is full on crying at this point, sobbing into her hands. "I can't get better." She says it quietly, hoping he won't hear, hoping he does, not even knowing what she wants. "I hate cutting, but I need it."

He does hear her, and he feels lost, knowing that she knows exactly what she's talking about and he's taking stabs in the dark, she's always been so much smarter than him. "I-If you hate it so much, there must be other ways. Was there ever something you did instead of cutting? Is there something that takes your mind off it?"

Hermione shakes her head sadly. "Nothing, nothing but schoolwork and I haven't got any more of that. Not even you, I wish it was you, I wish you could save me from this… hell I've thrown myself into."

"Maybe I can," he says. "How about this: If you feel the need, if you ever want to cut, then you come find me and we'll talk about it, we'll talk about anything, everything, I don't know. There's got to be a better way."

"But the feeling never stops, it never sleeps, it's always there and I always want to cut." she realizes people are beginning to leave the Great Hall from dinner and rushes towards an empty classroom, ducking inside with Draco holding her hand. "It's always there, and it's awful."

"Then maybe we can sneak off after class, or before dinner, or something. Maybe we can set times for this sort of thing." He realizes something. "You know, I've never really had a conversation with you, before yesterday. I mean, I'd LIKE to, one that isn't just us hurling insults back and forth..."

Hermione smiles weakly. "I'm very bad at insults. God, I'd rather just sit with you, just being there with you, holding your hand, something," she says, pulling him to the floor with her.

"Well..." he smiles, realizing that it's exactly what he wants too, "I think we can make that work."

"I wish!" Hermione exclaims. "I don't even know if it's possible for me to let anyone touch me. I just want to be held but I can't, I don't want anyone to touch my scars and yet I do. I don't even know what I want!"

"But you've been letting me all this time," he says, bewildered. "Isn't that enough?"

"No, you've hugged me and that's it. I want to kiss you or something, I want to sit with you and cry, dammit!"

"Why didn't you just tell me?" He doesn't care if it's an invitation or not, what she's saying, but he takes her face in his hands and kisses her.

Hermione, surprised, starts to cry again. Not because of him- no, she wanted the kiss, she needed it, but because no one had ever kissed her before, no one had ever loved her enough to touch her.

This wasn't the reaction he had been hoping for. He knows he's messed up again, and he's embarrassed beyond belief. He can feel his cheeks heating up as he says, "I'll just... go now..."


	4. Chapter 4

"No! NO!" shouts Hermione, trying to pull him back down. "No! It's not your fault! Please don't leave!"

He's glad to hear her say that, of course, but he's still confused. He sits back down next to her and says, "But why did you start crying? I thought you were making an invitation or something..."

"It's-it's not that. I've just… no one's ever kissed me before, no one's ever loved me enough t-to-to touch me. Not even my parents."

"Oh," he says, and he realizes the relief in his voice has slipped through when Hermione glares at him furiously. "No, no, I meant- I'm glad that I didn't upset you."

Hermione tries to smile, weakly. "Thanks. W-what about you? Have you kissed anyone before?"

"Well..." It's embarrassing to admit, but since she's confided so much in him he think the least he could to was return her trust. "Pansy Parkinson tried once, when I was sleeping... I don't even know how she managed to get up to our dormitory, but luckily I woke up first." He shudders at the thought.

"That's a bit… creepy. And she still tries to flirt with you even though you-you don't like her? Well… you don't, right?" Hermione looks nervous at the thought. She didn't want Draco to leave her, not by any chance.

"No!" Draco exclaims. "No, I don't, she's- there's no word strong enough for what she is..." He thinks back to the Slytherin table, where Pansy is probably sulking and wondering where he is. "I could never love anyone but you."

"You could put lots of words together!" Hermione suggests. She wants to return his heartfelt statement, but could she? Of course she loves him, he's the best thing that happened to her. She'd said it earlier, why couldn't she tell him she loved Draco again?

"I guess I could..." He smiles. "But I'd need your help. I don't know that many Wizarding insults..."

"Why would I?" Hermione smiles back at him. Was this her first real smile in months? Years?

"Because you know everything," he says playfully. It's good to see her smile, when she's never truly smiled at him in her life.

"I don't know everything!" she scoffs. "It'd be nicer if I did." Her smile fell again as another wave of depression hit her. It was like she couldn't have a single moment of happiness. It had to be taken away from her in an instant.

He knows he's ruined her happiness, again, why did he have to be such a blundering idiot? "Well, you're still the brightest witch in the entire school. It's okay to not get the top score once in a while, you know."

"No, it's not, it's not, I can't mess up! If I mess up… I-I don't know, I don't know what will happen to me but I know it won't be good."

"Nothing will happen, Hermione, people mess up all the time and nothing happens to them. I mess up more often than I get things right, I messed up yesterday, I'm probably messing up now..."

"W-what? How did you mess up yesterday? How are you messing up now? You're not doing anything wrong! I'm the one that's doing everything wrong!"

"No, it's me, Hermione, I'm the one who doesn't know how to handle ANYTHING, I have trouble with the simplest problems..."

"No! Don't you remember l-last week in Potions when I put in too much beetroot and I started crying? I could have taken it out, I could have started over, but I gave up! That's the problem! That's why I cut!"

"You should have seen mine! It was supposed to be blue and it was orange! What's a little beetroot when a Slytherin is failing Potions and his head of House is the teacher? Do you know how my father reacted to the letter Snape sent him?"

"But I thought Snape loved you! Why would he fail you? We all know he's not fair!"

"It's a pride thing, I think, he wouldn't let any other houses know that ANY Slytherins were failing, when about half of them are... And besides, it's a requirement to send a letter to the parents when a student is failing..."

"Well, how would I know that, anyways?" she snaps. Why was she so volatile? "I should have been a Ravenclaw, I'm not brave enough to be a Gryffindor." Hermione says to herself.

"You're saying that to a Slytherin, remember? Slytherins aren't brave, Hermione. They're selfish. My roommates, they only care about themselves. I hate to think about what I'm like sometimes..."

"But you aren't selfish, you care about me, that's not selfish. You should have just left me there when you found me yesterday!" she exclaims, instantly realizing she meant to say "could". But was it the truth? Was she better off being by herself? Of course not… right?

"I want you to myself, Hermione, that's being selfish," he says. "You'd be better off with Potter, or Weasley... not me." He considers that last sentence she said. "I'd never leave you if I didn't have to, though."

"How could you say that? I want to be with you, Draco, not them! And how long can you keep that promise?" Hermione felt more tears dripping down her cheek and she had an overwhelming urge to cut- no, not cut, she wanted to burn herself.

"I'll keep that promise for as long as I live." He is speaking in all seriousness, but he can tell she doesn't believe him. "Or until you don't want me anymore. If you ever decide you don't, I'll let you go and be with whoever you want to be with, even if it kills me."

She nods through tears, knowing that even his kind words couldn't abate the awful feelings coursing through her. "I want you." she whispers, searching through her bag for a lighter. Upon finding it, Hermione rolls up her right sleeve and holds the flame to her arm, crying hard as the pain envelops her.

"Don't do that!" He snaps, grabbing it away from her. "You think I can stand seeing this? You think I like watching you hurt yourself?"

"No, of course not! I don't like hurting myself, but I have to to get through the day without killing myself!"

"I told you," he says, "Come see me if you feel bad. Or go see Madam Pomfrey. Someone. Even if you don't think there's an alternative, I can help you find one!"

"I'm with you now and I still want to hurt myself! There's not an alternative, I have to cut or burn or something. If I can't do that, I will starve myself. I have to do something."

"Well... maybe this is a good place to start looking for an alternative?" He has no idea what he's saying anymore, all he knows is he wants to keep her safe.

"Can't you hear me?" she exclaims, trying to get up and slipping back down. "I don't know what to do!"

"I don't know what to do either!" He says. "Maybe we'll just have to struggle through this together! Together, Hermione! One day it'll get better, but for right now you don't have to do this alone."

"Why does it even matter to you? You aren't responsible for me, I'm responsible for me. I'm doing an awful job of it too." Hermione says.

"It matters because I love you. I've told you that. It matters because NO ONE should have to go through it alone. It matters because, if I can save even one person from this, it'll mean my life was worth living."

Hermione bites her lip, holding out her forearms to him. "Fix me, please."

He grabs her arms, pulls her close to him again and kisses her roughly. This time he wraps his arms around her, keeping her there.

Hermione melts into the kiss, carefully wrapping her arms around him. She breaks the kiss, looking up at him through tear-streaked eyes. "How do you love someone who's so broken?"

"How do YOU love someone who's such an asshole?"

"Maybe because you're amazing and not much of an asshole at all?"

"But I'm serious. How do you love this? I'm not anything interesting. When did you realize that… somehow… you did love me?"

"Yesterday. It was yesterday. I realized I'd loved you since the first moment, and it was my father who... it was him who'd always told me that Muggleborns are less than purebloods and so I didn't let myself... but I do now."

"Oh, Draco!" she exclaims, hugging him tightly. Draco, surprised, hugs back and hears her sob into his shoulder.

He is glad and extremely relieved that the truth is out now. He knows things are never going to be the same, he might have to hide it from his father, but it'll all be worth it.

"I don't know what I'm supposed to do now, Draco..."

"I don't know either, but what will happen will happen, and we'll just meet it when it does."

"That's not what I mean! I have to go, and I don't know how I'm going to be able to get through the day tomorrow without cutting, and I know I can't!"

Draco chuckles weakly. "Look at me being all philosophical... Can you try? For me? Will you try not to cut for me?"

"I know I can't promise that. I wish I could, but.. I'll feel so terrible if I cut anyways."

"Can you, maybe... set a limit for the amount of times that you cut? Would that help?"

"No, no, it won't. I don't know what would. I guess we'll have to wait or something… There's nothing I can do to stop anymore."

Hermione stands up, hugging Draco before rushing out. He looks surprised that she'd just… left. Where was she going? Hermione held her bag close to her, searching through it for her lighter and her blades. Why did she still need to cut? What was wrong with her that made her do this? Wasn't she happy now?


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note: **Starting here, the story is solely my own.

Hermione entered Gryffindor tower in a rush, flying into her dormitory even though everyone else was still there, doing homework or simply sitting around and talking. Crawling into bed, Hermione fell asleep and tried not to think about cutting, tried not to imagine what would happen if Draco ever left her… trying to ignore her feelings.

The next morning, Hermione realized too late that she was alone- everyone was going to class. She sat through Arithmancy, bored out of her mind even though it used to be her favorite class. When Professor Vector said anything, she tuned it out and instead looked around the room. Were people looking at her?

No, no, Hermione, no one is looking at you, she reassured herself. At the end of the class, she ran into the bathroom, slicing at her arm. Why did she still need it? She had Draco to help her, didn't she?

Finally, it was dinner. She could feel Draco looking at her from as far away as he was, knowing he was trying to see if she was alright. And after lunch, she got a chance to see him again. "Oh, Draco!" she exclaims, "How are you doing?"

"I'm alright," he said, smiling, "Pansy Parkinson lost a load of points this morning, it was rather funny,"

Hermione smirked. "I don't even want to know what she did,"

"No, you don't… it involved an empty classroom and a boy, if that helps…"

She laughed before she realised the last thing SHE'D done in an empty classroom with a boy, a lot less glamourous than a blowjob.

Draco looked at her closely, pulling her towards the edge of the corridor. "How are you?"

Hermione shrugged her shoulders. "I'm…" Should she lie should she tell the truth should she lie… "Fine, totally fine!" She added, throwing on a fake smile.

"No, you aren't, why would you lie to me?" said Draco crossly.

"What are you talking about? I'm entirely fine, alright?" Through gritted teeth, she included, "Can you just stop it?"

"Hermione!" he exclaimed, grabbing her wrist as she tried to walk off, "What the hell have you done?"

Hermione winced as he grabbed her, instantly realising this was a fatal error.

Draco looked on the verge of tears himself, and she realised for the first time that his hair was matted and sticking up. Had he lost sleep over her? Was he worried about her?

"I'm sorry," she said, "I'm sorry!"

Draco bit his lip, "C-can I see?"

"I-" started Hermione, but she knew it was no use. She unfastened the buttons at her wrist and rolled up her sleeve, showing him the three long, jagged cuts she'd added over the course of the day.

"Her-Her-Hermione." Draco said, a couple of tears betraying him and rolling down his face unchecked. "How could you do this?"

"I can't handle this! I'm sorry, Draco, I'm really sorry, I'm sorry, I love you," she said in a rush, pulling at her hair. "I didn't want to hurt you," Hermione added, biting her finger.

"But you did, alright? Can't you even think of anyone else?" said Draco. How could he have said that? He was hurting her… it was his fault, anyways.

"Draco, please," she said, tears spilling over. She pulled her bloody arm out of his grip and began to walk up the stairs, taking them two at a time. If she had looked back, she probably would have seen his bit lip, his tears, his outstretched hand, but she never looked back.

Hermione stared at the table, knowing this was it. This would be the thing that people remembered her by. But no one liked her anyways, so it didn't matter.

"I'm sorry, and I love you. Draco, I love you like I've never loved anyone else. I'm sorry that you don't love me anymore. -Hermione Jean Granger."

She read it quietly to herself, knowing that throwing herself off of the top of the stairs wasn't the best way to go, but she knew it would work. Or she hoped, anyways.

Hermione abruptly stood up from the table. "Harry, Ron, I've got to go, I need to go ask Professor Snape a question, I'll be back later!"

Before they could react to what she'd said, the fact that it was nine at night, or anything, Hermione was gone.

She tucked the note into her back pocket, rolling up her sleeves. When she fell everyone might as well see what she'd been doing.

Hermione looked down, over the balcony. It was almost over.

She pulled back her hair and stepped up onto the ledge. This was it this was it she was going to jump.

Slowly, she knocked herself over the edge. She was falling, down, down, down, waiting for the end.

Bang.


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note: **I forgot to put it on the last chapter (I have now) but starting at Chapter 5 I wrote everything by myself. Also, thanks for all the reviews- I didn't know everyone would be so very worried! Also, this was changed from when it was first posted- this morning, but still. So make sure you look at this version!

Draco was too worried to sleep. What was going on? Was she okay? She'd just run away from him… was it his fault?

He tossed and turned a few more times. It was still quite early, but he'd been too worried to stay awake and now he was too worried to sleep.

9.05. He was staring at the alarm clock next to him before his worries got the best of him.

Draco stood and slipped on his shoes, walking out of the dorm and into the still-lively common room.

"I'll be back in a while," he said to no one in particular, stepping out of the common rooms.

The dungeons were empty, it was after curfew, but he didn't care anyways.

Draco rushed up the stairs, trying to get to Gryffindor Tower, taking them three at a time. "Hermione," he whispered over and over under his breath. "I hope she's alright…"

As he finally reached the sixth floor, he saw his worst nightmare. Hermione was standing on the railing and… she was throwing herself over the ledge.

"HERMIONE!" he screamed, rushing towards where she had been. There was only silence from below until he heard a bang from… her body… hitting the floor.

Draco ran even faster back down the stairs, praying that she was alright, even though he knew she couldn't be. Tears were streaming down his face, his hair was messy from the twenty times he'd nervously run his hands through it, and he was more scared than he'd ever been.

"Lumos," he said quickly, waving the small amount of light he had around the quickly darkening castle. As Draco reached the bottom of the stairs, he realised sickeningly that Hermione was crumpled in the front entryway.

"Hermione!" he exclaimed, rushing over to her and collapsing to the floor himself. "Hermione? Hermione?"

He was full-on sobbing, grabbing her hand and weeping. He'd noticed that she'd rolled up her sleeves before she'd jumped; he guessed she wanted everyone to know what she'd done.

"Hermione, please come back," he said before realising she was holding a piece of paper in her limp hand.

Draco bit his lip and opened the note, vaguely aware of people walking about in the halls.

He looked at her perfect handwriting. Sad that the first note she'd ever written him was… her suicide note.

"I'm sorry, and I love you. Draco, I love you like I've never loved anyone else. I'm sorry that you don't love me anymore. -Hermione Jean Granger."

"Hermione!" he shouted again as someone pulled him up… someone was picking up Hermione… she was dead… he had never stopped loving her…

They were dragging him away… she was dead. This was all his fault, she was dead…

Draco could feel the suicide note being wrenched from his hand, himself being sat into a chair, and tears running unchecked down his face as he sobbed.

"Draco, what have you done?" exclaimed Snape, swishing into the room. He looked very, very angry.

Draco wiped away some of his tears with his shirtsleeve. "She… she… she jumped…" he said, his voice breaking. "She's dead…"

"Draco, answer the question. What did you do to her?"

"I didn't do anything! I loved her!" He let go of another sob and Snape looked sickened.

"Draco, get a hold of yourself!" he exclaimed. "I," he said grudgingly, "will take you to the hospital wing to see her."

Draco nodded and slowly stood up, unsure if his legs were even strong enough after everything that had happened.

"Miss Granger is unconcious, though she isn't dead." Snape said with a tinge of anger, sweeping out of the infirmary.

Draco saw Hermione and rushed towards her, grabbing her cold hand. "H-H-Hermione? I-please, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I love you, please…"

Her thin frame lie in the bed as though she was sleeping, her broken leg cradled with a cast. Not as though she was moving.

"Hermione…" he said, more tears spilling over. "Please, please wake up, I'm so sorry."

Draco leaned over and rolled down her sleeves; once she woke up, she probably didn't want everyone to see. He was distantly aware of a door opening and closing, and someone stepping up behind them.

"Is she alright?" said Weasley fearfully. Draco turned around to see both of his worst enemies standing there.

"She's unconscious," Draco replied, swallowing with difficulty. "I-I don't know if she'll be alright."

"I can't believe she'd do something like this," said Ron, "What was going through her head?" he asked himself.

Harry looked nervous and had his arms folded over his stomach like he was about to throw up. "Ugh… she looks terrible."

"Well, usually that's what happens after you throw yourself off the sixth-floor balcony, Potter," said Draco, more angrily than he'd expected.

"How do you even know that?" asked Ron, "And why are you here?"


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note: ShamrockAndRoll has come back to the story after a period of writer's block- this is us working together again. I am ridiculously sorry for the lack of updates, I'm in the middle of my own relapse and I have also just started high school. **

Draco felt sickened by the very thought. Would Hermione have wanted him to explain? Should he tell them about her cutting? What was he supposed to do?

"I saw her jump," he said sadly, "I-I love her,"

Ron looked taken aback. "You… love her?"

Draco understood; it was obviously difficult to believe that the only person he really loved was Hermione Granger. How was he supposed to tell them without including cutting?

"Well, one day I found her crying in a classroom, and I talked to her, and… well, tonight, I-I messed up. She thought I hated her… and then, this."

"So it's your fault, hmm?" said Ron. He looked both as though he was about to cry and like he was going to punch Draco in the face.

"I didn't tell her to go and kill herself if that's what you're saying," said Draco crossly. Why did he have to get blamed for everything?

Harry looked scared and seemed to be inspecting the fibres of his fingernails very intently.

"Do you want me to go?" asked Draco. The only thing he could think to do at this point was just to pacify them.

"You killed our best mate, yeah I want you to go," said Ron. Harry glared at Draco, more than a little angry.

Kill her? He couldn't let himself think that way. He just... she couldn't be dead. She had to still be alive. All those times even in the past five minutes when all he could do was replay the scene over and over in his head, and yet he'd never thought of her as dead. Until now.

Harry was having trouble coming to terms with what had happened; Draco was NOT baring his soul to them, and Hermione couldn't be dead. She's not, she's just unconscious. He laughed at himself as he thought those words. She's JUST unconscious.

Suddenly Draco was aware of movement around him. It snapped him out of his daze and Weasley stopped trying to burn a hole in his head with his eyes. Professor McGonagall was there, in a rather awful tartan dressing gown, furiously barraging Madam Pomfrey with questions. How did it happen? WHY did it happen? Why was no one there to supervise this obviously unstable girl? How did she get out of bed? What did the note say?

Ron hurriedly sat on the bed next to her, hands shaking from nervousness while McGonagall threw out more and more questions, Madam Pomfrey anxiously answering them. "She jumped from the sixth-floor balcony, we're unsure why, only one person was aware, she apparently told these two she was asking a teacher a question, and I'm afraid we can't show you that."

"It's mine." Draco's voice sounded strange even to him, like he was speaking through a mouthful of cotton. "The note. It's addressed to me. She wrote it for me and I'm not going to let you see it."

McGonagall rushed over, hands on her hips. "Mr. Malfoy you are going to have to show me that-"

She was cut off by Madam Pomfrey's arm blocking her from Draco. "Leave him alone, he's obviously not well."

Not well? They thought HE was not well when Hermione was laying unconscious and possibly dead beside him? He repeated the mantra in his head, so many times that it almost became its own word.

A tiny sound from the bed beside made Draco's head snap from its stationary position to look at the tiny girl blinking next to them. She opened her eyes, wide and nervous. 'Don't speak.' she thought to herself. 'They know.'

She looked so small on that hospital bed, so fragile, and maybe she was, but not to him. She could never be anything less than perfect to him. As soon as he saw her eyes open, the first sign of life from the girl he was sure he loved, he swore to himself that he would never let her do this again. To feel pain was to be human. To relieve someone else's pain was to be an angel.

Hermione was nervous. Everyone was crowded around her and she didn't know what was going on. Had they seen her cuts? She could feel a throbbing pain in her leg and she saw Draco looking like he was going to cry. Did they know? What was happening? Her eyes went wide and she blinked several times, hoping this wasn't real.

Of course Potter and Weasley hadn't noticed she was awake. They only called themselves her best fucking friends. Draco could feel himself getting worked up and scolded himself for it. This was no time to be bitter. This was a time to break down in tears because Hermione was alive, and it felt like he just might do that as his eyes burned with tears.

Hermione saw a tear drip down Draco's cheek. Did he know she was awake? Was she really awake? Was she just a ghost, looking down at the scene? "H-hello?" she tried, shakily.

Every head in the room whirled around at the sound of her voice. Every head except his. His eyes had never even moved from hers since the very first moment she opened them. Potter and Weasley- no, Harry and Ron- were at her bedside across from Draco so fast you'd have thought they Apparated there. McGonagall was in a right state. He supposed that was to be expected. Her best student was lying in the hospital wing after a suicide attempt with possible permanent head injuries.

Draco grabbed her wrist and she winced. "W-what's going on?" She tried to bite her lip but it was already swollen and burst blood when she sunk an incisor in. "Oh dear."

Draco tried to remain calm, although the sight of more of her blood was almost enough to send him over the edge. Metaphorically, of course.

"Relax," he said, his voice shaking. "You're in the hospital wing. We... I found you." He showed her the note she'd written. He hadn't let go of it for half an hour.

Madam Pomfrey rushed to hand her gauze, carefully pressing it again the wound.

Hermione glanced down at the note, even though she'd memorised it before she'd even jumped. "I'm right, aren't I?" she said, trying to frown and failing, gushing more blood.

Draco shook his head quickly. "I'm sorry, I can't believe this is my fault… I didn't mean to… make you… try to KILL yourself."

Hermione snorted. "Of course you didn't mean to, but that doesn't answer the question. Do you still love me?"

Draco looked down at the bed, at Hermione's thin body and huge shirt, at her pale hand peeking out next to his.

"I'm not even sure if love is a strong enough word. I love you so fucking much I'm not sure if I can stand it and every single time I see you doing something to yourself I want to cry."

Hermione tried to smile, squeezing her hand weakly until Draco took it. It felt like everyone else had just melted away, leaving them alone while Hermione tried to ignore the pain.


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's Note: ShamrockAndRoll wants me to tell everyone that she writes the part of Draco, and I write Hermione.**

For a long time, Draco couldn't get his thoughts in order. He thought that if he did, they'd be like weights and drag him out of his bliss. He was just so relieved, and it was almost too much for him and he felt dizzy. Eventually, his thoughts settled, though, and he couldn't help but wonder... what next? Was Hermione going to be permanently damaged? Did she hit her head? Break her spine? Could she be fixed with magic? Couldn't she?

Hermione tried to breathe through the pain- after a period of numbness when she'd woken up, she was now being accosted by pain from her leg, her busted lip, and the cuts on her arms. Her head throbbed dully. "Ugh!" she exclaimed. "This hurts!"

Madam Pomfrey came bustling over, clucking her tongue at the sight of them holding hands. "Now, this is all very nice and lovely, but Hermione has to get some rest, and you should too, Draco," she said briskly. "Hermione, I have some potion for you. Should speed up the healing process, and numb some of the pain as well. I'll have you out of here in a week or less, dear." With that, she ushered him out of the door before turning back around and handing a goblet of some pinkish liquid to Hermione, watching her recoil at the smell.

Hermione didn't really care much about the liquid- she could get over the taste of her own blood, she could get over this. But Draco was gone, Harry and Ron were being forced out, and she was alone with no one to hold her or tell her she was going to be alright. She forced the goblet down in one gulp, falling back onto the pillows with a dead look in her eyes.

Draco ran his hands through his hair again, standing just outside the door to the hospital wing. Now that he was out of her presence, he allowed his eyes to droop from tiredness. He really should get some sleep... but he couldn't leave Hermione here... he walked away, down the hall, tripping on his own shoelaces along the way, going wherever his feet would take him, until suddenly he was in the same hall where he had witnessed Hermione's "problem" for the very first time. He looked down. There, just at his feet, were a few drops of dried blood.

He was hit with a flashback suddenly, of her breaking down in front of him, of how he'd thrown himself on her, of how she'd spent her day crying, of him throwing her blade away and her rushing away to cut. What if he hadn't found her? What would have happened? Would this still have happened? Would she have been- well- not okay, but, not this bad?

Hermione stared at the ceiling, tears welling up in her eyes. She needed Draco, more than he'd ever, ever know. And she missed him. What was she supposed to do for the night when she couldn't cut and she couldn't hold her own fucking boyfriend's hand?

Draco stared at the ceiling, tears welling up in his eyes. He needed Hermione, more than she'd ever, ever know. And he missed her. What was he supposed to do for the night if he couldn't stop her from cutting and couldn't hold his own fucking girlfriend's hand?

It was a long night for Hermione. Crying out in pain and trying and failing to sleep, she eventually gave up and pulled down her sleeve, running a hand over her cuts that she hoped no one had seen. She could pass this off as an accident, right? Right?

In the back of her mind she knew that they knew, what if they called her parents, what if she was forced into therapy? What if she and Draco couldn't see each other?

Draco woke up in bed the next day. It was a Saturday, which meant he didn't have to go to classes. All he wanted right now was to sleep because his bed was so warm and soft... but then he remembered Hermione and he bolted upright.

Hermione blinked herself awake, trying to see through bleary, tired eyes what was going on. Her hair lie delicately arranged around her, like someone had been messing with it. Her leg was numb. There was another goblet next to her, which she quickly drank, wincing at the taste.

Draco dressed as fast as he could, throwing on a button-up shirt with the first three buttons undone, gray trousers his mother had sent him, and mismatched socks and tried to run out of the door to the common room before realising he hadn't put on shoes. He rushed back upstairs and put on some trainers before rushing back out again and accidentally bashing his head on the door.

Hermione heard the door open, and she tried to figure out if she was really awake. She swiped at her eye, wincing at the pain from her arm as one of the cuts decided to stretch itself in a particularly awful way.

He barged through the door to the hospital wing without even waiting for permission. Hermione's bed was closest to the door so it wasn't exactly difficult to find her. She looked to have just woken up when he arrived at her bedside.

Hermione looked worriedly at him, "Are you okay? You look angry," she said, breaking into a coughing fit.

He hadn't even realised he'd been frowning, but he had. He'd been holding onto the faint hope that last night was just a dream. Maybe it wasn't real and Hermione hadn't jumped and she was sleeping in Gryffindor tower right now. He straightened his features immediately, trying not to let his disappointment show through. She might take it to mean he was disappointed in her.

Hermione smiled, relieved that Draco wasn't angry- at least not at her. "Why aren't you in classes? Is there something going on?"

He laughed. "It's Saturday, Hermione." His laugh grew louder as he saw her blushing in embarrassment. It felt good to finally have something to laugh about.

Hermione felt her face flush. Apparently she hadn't been unconscious for as long as she'd thought. "Oh… I'm, a bit, well, sleepy. I wish I could do something and wake up." she added, crossing her arms and making a half-serious frown.

"Well, I'm here now," he says, heart racing. "Maybe I could give you something to do." He sits down on a stool beside her bed, leans in and kisses her.

Hermione tries to kiss him back, everything being awkward through her busted lip. She wraps her arms around Draco's neck, trying to pull him closer. At least she could feel his arms around her even if the kiss was a little weird.

This was, what, his third time kissing Hermione in as many days? He didn't think he'd ever grow tired of it. He was very comfortable at the pace they were moving at, when suddenly Madam Pomfrey felt it necessary to announce her presence by banging open the door, startling both of them and causing their foreheads to collide.

As Hermione's forehead cracked against Draco's she felt a ridiculous pain. "Oh, dear," she said, trying to compose her flushed face. "Hello, Madame Pomfrey," she added, grabbing Draco's hand.

Draco was a bit less eloquent about it. "Dammit!" He exclaimed, one hand on his forehead. "Is it so bad for a bloke to snog his girlfriend around here?"

Madame Pomfrey gave him a look as though she was about to laugh. "Be careful there, Hermione, you need your rest. You are going to have to take another potion in half an hour."

Hermione made a face at Draco while Madam Pomfrey's back was turned. He knew the potion must have tasted awful, but whatever Madam Pomfrey said worked, usually worked. He remembered how that idiot Lockhart had removed Potter's bones the year before. Wait, shit. Potter. How was he going to deal with them?

As Madame Pomfrey retreated, Hermione swallowed with difficulty and leaned forwards towards Draco. Seeing it was difficult for her to get all the way up, he leaned towards her and started to kiss her again.

Hermione sighed, breaking the kiss. She could have kissed him all day if she wanted to- which she did- but she hurt far too much for that. She didn't know what to do anyways; she was used to cutting to get away from any other pain she had and Draco was right here, she shouldn't cut in front of him again. And what would she use, anyways?

Draco could tell that neither of them were really in the mood for kissing after they'd been so rudely interrupted, but he was still a little disappointed. It's strange how an overbearing nurse and some healing potion can really kill a romantic mood. Any hope of regaining such a mood was also instantly destroyed when the door to the hospital wing opened again and Weasley and Potter poked their heads in.

Hermione's eyes grew wide and nervous as she saw Harry and Ron walking inside. Were they going to confront her? Were they going to shout at Draco because he was here? Oh, of all the people she could have to talk to, they were at the bottom of the list.


	9. Chapter 9

Draco's fists clenched. The people he least wanted to see, in the place he least wanted to be... but it was where Hermione was, and Draco wanted more than anything to be near her.

Hermione's throat closed up as Ron and Harry walked over to her, Ron looking angry and Harry worried. "Why are you still here?" said Ron annoyedly to Draco, sitting on a chair next to Hermione's bed.

"I can be here if I want, Weasel," Draco snapped. "She's my friend too, you know." He winced immediately. He meant to say "girlfriend", but he figured Weasley might not take too kindly to that.

Harry looked nervously at Hermione. "Are you doing alright?" She nodded. "I'm okay, I guess, it hurts a fair bit."

Suddenly, she realised what Draco'd said. "Girlfriend. I'm his girlfriend." she added somewhat quietly, just loud enough for Ron to hear and look appalled at.

"WHAT?" Weasley jumped straight up and made a move toward Draco but forgot that Hermione's bed was in the way. He ended up falling over her legs, trying to punch Draco but hitting only air.

Hermione cried out in surprise and pain, and shouted, "Ron! Stop it!" Draco leaped forward and shoved him off of Hermione's legs.

"HAVE YOU GONE MAD?" Weasley and Draco shouted at the same time, Draco to Ron and Ron to Hermione.

Hermione crossed her arms tightly over her stomach, feeling an intense need to cut. "Oh, please, I don't just go around holding the hands of random boys, thank you very much." She ran through a list of ways to make them leave in her head and couldn't decide on which was the best.

Harry was holding Weasley under the armpits, trying to keep him from launching himself at Draco again. Draco, still retaining a bit of his old self, couldn't hold back a sneer at the sight of them. Ron's face grew even more enraged.

Hermione smashed a hand to her face, trying not to show her trigger in front of Harry and Ron. "Won't you all please stop it?" Draco snapped his head around. "I'm not doing anything!"

Ron had gone beyond anger now, and into incoherence. He spluttered at her, "But- you- him- asshole- you- WHY?"

Hermione buried her face in her hands and Draco wanted to punch both of them in the mouths just to get them to shut up, but feared that would just make Hermione's situation worse. It can't be easy to see your boyfriend and your best friends fight.

"Will you please go?" said Hermione. "If you can't be nice to me I don't want you to be here at all." she gestured at Ron, who snorted and stamped off. Harry frowned and followed him, glancing confusedly back at Draco and Hermione.

Weasley had marched out with what was left of his dignity, but Harry turned around with his head still in the doorway, and said, "Are you going to choose between him or us?"

Hermione's face fell, her heart beating fast. Before she could even try to formulate an answer, Harry was gone and Hermione was left, tears spilling over and wrists banging against each other to block out the thoughts.

Draco grabbed her wrists. He hadn't seen this before, but it didn't take a warlock to know that she was trying to hurt herself again. "You don't have to choose, Hermione, I'll- if you want, I can... apologize... I might not ever be... well... friends... but at least we won't be enemies anymore..." He's struck by how, suddenly, the idea of being enemies with anyone just seemed so _tiring_ now.

"Can we- just- not talk about this? Please?" she said, trying to pull her wrist free. She was quite certainly not finished harming herself and she didn't care if Draco saw her. Wrenching one of her hands out, she roughly scratched at her arm when Draco grabbed it again.

"Don't do that," he said, and the tiredness in his voice slipped through. "We've been over this..." He couldn't even bring himself to look her in the eye.

"What do you expect me to do instead?" Hermione asked pleadingly. "If you don't want to see me how I am all the time then I suggest you leave."

He didn't want to leave. He didn't want to see Hermione inflict any more pain on herself. He just wanted to be happy, and he just wanted her to be happy with him. "Have you ever thought that there's more to life than this?" He gestured to her wrists and the cuts hidden beneath her sleeves. "Don't you think there's more to life than being depressed all the time?"

"Do you really think I can do a god-damn thing about it?" she said. "I tried to kill myself two days ago. You tell me if I'm fucking happy or not." Hermione pushed up one of her sleeves. "Do these help with the whole figuring-it-out? Does it look like I am caring about the rest of my life when I can't get through the next five minutes and you are NOT letting me cut?"

"There's a reason for that, you know," he snapped at her.

"Well obviously but you can have me break down next to you again or you can let me cut. I highly doubt you are interested in sitting here while I whine at you again."

"If you want to rant at me again I don't care, I don't want you cutting, alright? I care about you, Hermione, and I care far too much to let you slice yourself up every god-damn day."

Hermione sighed, turning away from him. "This is just too much right now. I'm trying to recover from a god-damn suicide attempt, you and Harry and Ron are fighting, and Harry expects me to choose between you all. The only thing that I can even consider doing is cutting and I know you won't let me do that, but I don't know how else I'm supposed to block out the thoughts."

"But haven't we been talking so much and you didn't feel like cutting when we were talking, right?" He asks her. He knows in the back of his mind that he shouldn't be so angry with her, after all, she did just try to kill herself, but he can't help it. One of the quirks of his personality, he guessed.

"It didn't take it away, I could just… delay it for a while, but when I did end up cutting it was just worse than it would have been. There's no winning, is there?" she said tiredly.

"Well, I don't know..." he said. He remembered something his mother had told him once, about how he'd never make people change if they didn't want to. If he remembered correctly, she'd gone on to say that people who didn't support the Dark Lord were cowards, but that was completely different. "Don't you WANT to get better, though? So you can, you know, be happy with me and things like that?"

"No, of course not, I don't want to 'get better'. There's not anything wrong with me. I'm perfectly happy with you; it's the rest of things I'm not very happy about." She was straight denying it now, because she refused to admit that she needed to stop. She didn't. She was strong for doing this. She would only get worse if she stopped cutting- she'd kill herself. For real this time.

"Are you serious?" He was trying to process what she'd just said. "You don't need help? You're fine? Hermione, you're in a damn hospital wing after attempting to kill yourself and you have scars everywhere and the only reason I ever knew about it was because of an accident! You think you can just go through the rest of your life running to a blade every time something goes wrong? You can't. It doesn't work that way. God knows I've tried..." That last part had slipped out unintentionally, and Draco felt like punching himself. But hadn't every teenager tried it before? He supposed he was lucky it just didn't stick with him.

"I had a lot of pressure, alright?" she said through gritted teeth. "And you still like me despite the scars, don't you, so why CAN'T I-carry-on…" she said, slowing down and realising what he'd said. "Oh my god."


	10. Chapter 10

"No, I mean- I didn't mean to say that," he said sheepishly. "I-It was just once, and it didn't stick and I thought it was just something everyone went through and... I don't know."

"Why-why wouldn't you TELL me? Why the FUCK wouldn't you tell me that you'd actually done this for once, actually tell me that you UNDERSTOOD how much PAIN it relieves?"

"But, it didn't," he exclaimed, bewildered. "It didn't really do much of anything! Except it made me feel worse, much worse, because I'd done something I couldn't take back and it was going to be there forever..."

The colour drained out of Hermione's face. Not everyone felt better after they'd hurt themselves? "It- it doesn't help? That's- oh. I must be- really, really odd."

"Well, no," he said. He was getting more and more confused by the minute. "I... maybe I'm the weird one because it didn't do anything for me. I don't know. I just wish this sort of thing had never existed. Is that bad?" He asked, somewhat ashamed.

"You wish that you hadn't ever- done it? Well, of course, once or twice I did too. I'm quite sure I'm the odd one. I'm already an outcast, I might as well add this whole masochism shite to it."

"Masochism?" He was utterly mystified now. "No, there's... there's... so many levels to it, Hermione, you have yours and I have mine and there's everywhere in between, but you have to listen to me when I say that you don't need this."

"I'm- kidding. I hate the pain, it just, helps." Hermione knew in the back of her mind that was the greatest understatement of the century. It helps! Ha! It helps the same as occasional meals help with staying alive.

"I wish there was a spell that allowed me to figure out just why you think that," he said. He was angry again, and he didn't know why. Why couldn't she just see things the way he saw them? The right way? Was there a right way? A wrong way? Why was there even a reason for these questions to exist? Sometimes the bad guys won.

"Draco, we're not the same person. Why do you refuse to accept that this helps more than anything else? I mean, I can't just sleep all day no matter how much I'd like to," Hermione's face fell as she saw Draco getting angry at her. What had she done now? Did he want her to lie?

"Because if it hurts you, than it's not actually helping you, Hermione," he barked. He was becoming irrationally angry now, and he knew he needed to calm down before he stopped making sense. "Look, I wish I had the right answers for you, but the truth is, there ARE no right answers, there's only _time_."

"The time is running out, alright? There is a finite length of time for me to be here and I am trying to make that as short and bearable as possible." said Hermione, gritting her teeth.

"That's not what I meant," he said crossly. "And don't bother asking me what it is I do mean, because there's obviously no way I'm going to be able to explain it to you. I'm giving you solutions, Hermione, but you just keep saying no!"

"What sort of solutions are you giving me, Draco? I can't go anywhere. You just keep telling me I have to think positive or something and yeah, sure, maybe that helps in some other world but right now I would just like someone to help me through my trigger, but _no_ you have to be thinking all fucking long term when I can't get through the next hour."

"But you don't have any ideas on how to survive short-term, either, do you?" He asked. "I've told you, I'm completely lost here, and I wish you'd help me understand but apparently there is no way for me to understand. So why don't we do normal-couple things, like... I don't know, talk about our days?" It sounded pitiful, even as he said it.

Hermione laughed brittlely. "You're the one who's making no effort to understand. But fine, how was your fucking day?" she said it angrily, a lot angrier than she ever, ever wanted to say anything to him, but she was so triggered and so frustrated she didn't even care.

"Okay," he barked. "Okay. We both need to calm down some before we take each other's heads off. I... Look, I'm sorry that you're triggered right now, but I'm going to be a rational asshole and say that it doesn't really matter because you don't have anything to cut with right now and Madame Pomfrey is watching you." He saw the fire shoot from her eyes and cringed a little bit. "Please don't be mad at me anymore. I don't like us being mad at each other."

Hermione immediately regretted what she'd done, burying her face in her hands and starting to cry. Suddenly, tears streaming down her face, Hermione slipped her hands under the covers and tried to scratch at herself as inconspicuously as is possible, until she caught her nail on a cut and ripped the scab open.

He'd messed up big time now, making his own girlfriend cry like that. "Hey," he said, his voice cracking, "Don't do that..." his hands snaked under the blanket to grab hers, and pulled them out from under the covers. He saw that one of her more recent cuts was bleeding again. He guessed he was wrong after all. He said the only thing he could think of under the circumstances. "Hermione, I love you."

Hermione smiled sadly, pressing her hand into the bleeding cut. "I love you, too, Draco," She bit her lip, shaking from how bad the trigger was. Concentrate on something else, Hermione, concentrate on something else...

They seemed to have quite the turbulent relationship, Draco thought as he hugged Hermione around her shoulders. But that's probably what happened when one of them was depressed and the other was an idiot.


End file.
